Is it too late?
by Potter25
Summary: Harry and Ginny are best friends. They live together and share everything. The catch: Harry's realized he loves Ginny unconditionally, but Ginny has no idea, and is torturing poor Harry with a lot of other men. What will he do? RR!


Disclaimer: I own nothing!  
  
Author's note: Haven't heard from me in a while? Hehe, Here is a little something I've had in my computer for a long long time. I wasn't sure if it was good or not, but I decided to give it a try. I hope you enjoy it! Review and let me know what you think!  
  
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Ginny took one last lingering look at herself in the full bodied mirror, and smiled in satisfaction. She looked good; her short, tube top, black dress fell just above her knees, and her bright red hair fell in soft curls around her milky shoulders. Her large chocolate brown eyes shined with excitement, accented with a thin line of eyeliner.  
  
A man with messy black hair walked in the room from behind her, and sucked in an audible breath.  
  
"Whoa, Gin, aiming to knock old Chris off his feet?" Harry Potter asked grinning from her bedroom doorway.  
  
"Maybe?" she said, smiling mischievously at him through the mirror.  
  
"Well, you've done a good job going about it. He better not do anything, or I may have to take it upon myself to kick his ass, now that Ron has other things, like a pregnant wife to deal with. What time are we expecting dear old Chris anyway?" he asked. The hint of sarcasm was not lost on Ginny. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"He should be coming any minute," she said, leaning slightly over her dresser to see her face better in the mirror. She began to apply lipgloss to her full pink lips. Pressing them together, they curved into a large smile.  
  
Harry leaned against the doorway for a few more minutes staring, before she turned around.  
  
"What? Do I look all right? Or should I work on myself some more?" she asked nervously at the look he was giving her.  
  
"If you work any harder on yourself, you'll have to push him off you with a stick." He scratched his head. "Come to think of it, you'll have to push me off with a stick."  
  
She rolled her eyes again, and laughed. She walked up to him and pushed him out of the way. "Men," she muttered.  
  
He couldn't suppress the grin that broke out on his face as she passed.  
  
The doorbell rang. "Oh, Harry, can you go and get the door?" Ginny shrieked as she scampered into the bathroom ahead of him.  
  
Harry jerked himself out of the doorway, and made his way down the hall toward the stairs.  
  
"Why?" he asked, ambling past the door she had just scurried into.  
  
"I have to make him wait a little bit. I don't want to look desperate!" she answered.  
  
"Ginny you've been dating him for two months now, I think he knows you're not desperate."  
  
"Yes, well..I can still look it. It's most unattractive."  
  
Harry lightly chuckled, as he began his slow decent of the stairs.  
  
"Can you pick up the pace?" she wailed.  
  
"I thought you wanted to keep him waiting." Harry's amused voice reached her ear.  
  
"Well, yes, but not outside!"  
  
"Women," Harry muttered.  
  
HARRY'S POV:  
  
Harry walked down the stairs as slowly as possible, trying to postpone the inevitable. He tried to kill off the butterflies swarming his stomach. His attraction to Ginny seemed to be growing every day, seemingly by the minute. He didn't want too be attracted to her, because he was currently dating someone else. Someone that he was losing interest in quickly. Tracy, the girl in question, the girlfriend, if you could even call her that, was just someone to have around. She only seemed attracted to his name and not his personality, but she was good company, and liked to refer to herself as his girlfriend, so why spoil her dreams? However the charade had gone on long enough and he couldn't pretend to love her anymore, not when he was hopelessly in love with someone else.  
  
Ginny however was his best friend, and living mate, and when your best friend was Ginny Weasley, beautiful, intelligent, kind, and caring, one had a hard time not admiring her, or imagining himself being with her. And in that moment he was sure that no one could ever compare to Ginny. He trusted her completely, and he knew that he loved her, everything about her. And he began to think that he'd always loved her, ever since they'd become friends in her 5th year. He tried to get that out of his head, and he managed it for a long time, forcing himself to believe that he had no feelings for her, only to protect her. He would have never be able to live with himself if something ever happened to Ginny because of him. He just wouldn't be able to deal with it. However, now that Voldemort was gone, and had been gone for 3 years, he'd slowly began to realize that those early feelings never went away, and now that the Dark Lord was gone, there was no reason to push the feelings away. Sure, he was crushed when she'd come home with dozens of guys. None of them were good enough for her, but they were just obstacles that were easily gotten rid of, but this Chris guy was beginning to frighten him. They'd been going out on dates for two months, and Ginny seemed to actually like him.  
  
He reached the door, coming out of his thoughts, and pulled it open. A tall blonde man stood just behind the door. He was grinning, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. A word that came to mind was 'snobby.'  
  
"Hello, Chris," Harry said emotionlessly.  
  
"Hello, Harry. You're still living here? Is Ginny here?"  
  
Harry scowled at him, but held the door open wider. "Yea, she'll be down in a minute. She's in the bathroom right now."  
  
Chris smiled, "Oh." He walked into the room, without being invited, and stood, his arms folded over his broad chest.  
  
The two men stood in awkward silence, which was momentarily broken by the light pitter-patter of high heels, climbing gracefully down the stairs. The action was so unlike Ginny, whom Harry remembered usually ran down the stairs loudly, cursing, or laughing as she tripped. But, now she looked as if she were a goddess descending from the heavens.  
  
Plopping down on the end of the soft blue sofa, Harry watched her. He rolled his eyes and switched on the TV with the remote that was lying next to him on the cushions.  
  
Chris fidgeted nervously from foot to foot as she came down the stairs all smiles.  
  
"Are you ready?" Chris asked, motioning toward the door.  
  
"Yea, let's go," she said quickly.  
  
She sent Harry a glance, before letting him lead her out of the door.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed in dislike as he watched him exit the living room and into the hall. He despised the way he treated her, she deserved better, much better, but she said that she liked him a lot, and Harry wasn't in the position to tell her that he was rotten.  
  
"Gin?" he whispered warningly.  
  
She glanced over, smiling weakly, and shrugged.  
  
He looked at her worriedly, trying to communicate this with his eyes. "Be careful, ok?"  
  
Ginny grinned, and walked over to where Harry was sitting.  
  
"Ginny!" Chris sighed frustratedly from the hallway.  
  
"In a minute."  
  
She stopped in front of Harry, and wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly.  
  
"I will, thanks."  
  
He patted her back. Inhaling her scent, that was so overpoweringly Ginny. It was a combination of gum, lilacs, and shampoo.  
  
She when she leaned back, she gave him a peck on his cheek, and ruffled his hair, before making her way to the door.  
  
"Be good tonight!" he called, and she laughed. "And remember what I said!"  
  
She gave him one last wave goodbye, and the front door slammed shut behind her.  
  
Everyone knew that Harry didn't like Chris, and Harry had a feeling that the feeling was mutual, since he always made some comment about Harry and Ginny living together, and he was also very icy toward him. But what did he want? Harry and Ginny were best friends, and living together made the rent cheaper, not that that mattered to Harry, he had enough money in Gringotts to buy it off, but that's beside the point. Anyway, who did he think he was? It was none of his business if they were living together. Harry liked living with Ginny; he could keep an eye on her, be with her without appearing suspicious, and protect her, from any man that he didn't trust or didn't like. Hence: Chris.  
  
He absent-mindedly flipped through the channels on the TV, the dull discomfort of worry slowly intensifying in the pit of his stomach with each channel. He never went to bed when she was out with Chris, or any date that she went on. He felt responsible for her, however he never told her all this, he had no desire to be gutted and hung from a tree limb- figuratively speaking. He trusted Ginny with all his heart, he knew that she wouldn't do anything that her family wouldn't like, but he didn't trust Chris, not at all.  
  
He sighed, and got up, walking into the kitchen to get something to eat. He did this whenever his mind was on something, or someone. He pulled open the refrigerator, and looked into the fridge. There was a carton of milk; a container holding some left over spaghetti from the other night, a container of applesauce, a container of butter, and a liter of soda.  
  
He sighed, and closed the fridge, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, and walking to the cabinet. He pulled it open, and looked at the contents. There were Poptarts, boxes of Macaroni and Cheese (Ginny's personal favorite), Popcorn, and a bag of sour cream and onion ruffle chips. He pulled out a bag of popcorn, and closed the cabinet. He walked over to the microwave, and pushed the button opening it. He smiled, remembering when he'd taught Ginny how to use it when he'd moved in with it.  
  
FLASH BACK!  
  
"What's that?" she asked looking up from the magazine she was reading on the couch.  
  
"A microwave," he said quickly, dropping it on the counter, retrieving his fingers from under it quickly.  
  
Her eyes were wide, as she jumped up, and ran into the kitchen.  
  
"What does it do?"  
  
Harry chuckled, "it warms things."  
  
"Really? We can warm things with our wands."  
  
"Yes, but I don't really trust the wizarding way of warming things. I feel better to have actually seen my food go into the microwave, so I know for sure that it has been warmed. Same thing as the oven."  
  
"So, it's like a mini ofen?" she asked excitedly.  
  
Harry laughed out loud. "Something like that."  
  
"Can you make something in it?"  
  
Harry nodded, "sure." He plugged it in the outlet (since they were living in a Muggle flat) above where the blender was plugged in.  
  
'What could he make in the microwave--? Popcorn? Why not.' He moved to the cabinet, and pulled out a package of popcorn.  
  
He pushed the button on the bottom right of the microwave, and put the bag face down on the rotating plate in the center of the microwave, and put it on for about three minutes.  
  
The microwave immediately began to make a low rumbling noise, and the plate in the center began to rotate.  
  
Ginny's eyes were wide with excitement, as she watched the bag begin to bulge from the middle.  
  
"So that's why Muggle popcorn comes in those little bags," she said almost breathlessly.  
  
Harry clutched his sides he was laughing so hard. "Yeah."  
  
END OF FLASHBACK  
  
The microwave let out a long loud beat, ripping him inharmoniously from his thoughts. He opened the door to the microwave, and stuck his hand in to retrieve the steaming bag. He bit back a curse as it burned the tip of his fingers. He hastily moved the bag from the microwave, and threw it rather roughly onto the counter.  
  
He heard laughing behind him in the doorway, and whipped around, heart pounding.  
  
"What in the hell are you doing here?" Harry asked, eyes-wide.  
  
"Gosh, Harry, bit jumpy are we?" Hermione asked giggling. "I was just coming over to talk to Ginny."  
  
"She's not here," he growled, and shut the door to the microwave.  
  
"Fight?"  
  
"Oh, God no, worse, date."  
  
Hermione nodded in sympathy. "Why don't you tell her how you feel, and spare yourself some of the pain of her going out with other men."  
  
Harry shook his head, as he retrieved a large bowl from the drawer below the sink. "I've got a girlfriend, Hermione."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, and waved the information away, trying to sit down slowly, what with her protruding stomach.  
  
"And you're in love with Ginny. Why are you even going out with Tracy? She's not even your type."  
  
Harry sighed, and straightened out. "I know." He gently ripped open the bag. Steam billowed out of the opening, as he dipped it over the bowl.  
  
"Let me ask you a question, Harry."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Do you love Ginny, for sure? I mean really love, like can't live without her?"  
  
He leaned against the counter behind him, and looked at Hermione in the eye. "Yes."  
  
"So, if this thing with this guy doesn't work out, would you break up with Tracy?"  
  
"Depends--" he said slowly.  
  
"On what?"  
  
"If we have something going, then yes, Tracy would be gone in a heartbeat."  
  
Hermione nodded. "From what I've just heard, you're stringing Tracy along. You don't want to do that, it's not fair to her."  
  
Harry, who had turned back, paused over his bowl of popcorn, thinking about what Hermione was saying. It made sense, it wasn't fair to Tracy; he was basically using her, as a back up if something didn't happen with Ginny.  
  
"You're right of course," he said, bringing the bowl of popcorn with him as he sat down at the kitchen table, opposite Hermione.  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"So, where's Ron anyway? Don't you always do thing together?" he asked, popping a kernel into his mouth.  
  
She ignored the last comment. "He's at home asleep, as I said before I was going to talk to Ginny, but--."  
  
"She should be back soon."  
  
She gave him a puzzled look. "When did she leave?"  
  
Harry glanced at his watch. "Half an hour ago."  
  
Hermione laughed in sympathy, "yea, she'll be back soon."  
  
"Hey! She might! She might notice that he is a pig, and come home running into my arms," he said in self defense.  
  
Hermione patted his arm. "So, what are your plans for tonight?"  
  
"I don't have any, actually James Bond is on in--." he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes and I plan on watching that."  
  
"What is it with guys and that movie?" Hermione laughed. "I'll be sending Ron over to watch that with you, I have a feeling that will take over our TV tonight, and I don't want to subject myself to that. I've got a baby to look after, I can't go do something that may force me over the edge of insanity."  
  
"Hey! It's not that bad!"  
  
"Sure it isn't, hey, Harry, how many times has he died, and then come miraculously back to life? You know that can't happen."  
  
Harry shrugged, and stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, before swallowing.  
  
"Did you say you got a TV?"  
  
"Yea," she muttered.  
  
Harry laughed. "Can you pry Ron away from it?"  
  
Hermione glared at him. "You know us to well," she muttered. " I only got him away from it long enough to nap--I swear he's like a robot."  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"So, I take it you're not inviting Tracy over to spend they evening with you?"  
  
Harry scrunched up his face. "No, well, unless she invites herself over, which she's been doing lately. It's getting rather annoying actually."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, other then break up with her. It would benefit both of you."  
  
Harry nodded and stood up, taking his popcorn with him. "Ok, tomorrow, I'll invite her over. This won't be pleasant."  
  
"No one ever said breaking it off with someone was easy."  
  
"Like your one to talk," Harry smirked. "You've never had to brake up with someone, you've been with Ron, practically your whole life."  
  
Hermione glared. "You know what I mean."  
  
Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Yea, Yea." He made his way to the living room, where he plopped down on the couch again, and placing the bowl of popcorn on his lap.  
  
"Go and get Ron, then, the movie's almost starting!"  
  
Hermione tutted, and walked to the small fireplace. "Yes, your majesty."  
  
Harry nodded, and picked up the remote, flipping it to the channel that held the James Bond movie.  
  
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